


Won't you please (not) look at me?

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia puts on a brave face in the wake of meeting Old Fritz again. It's not that he doesn't need comfort; it's just that he isn't used to let someone in.</p><p><b>Note:</b> The story is based on "Kitayume Mysterious Halloween."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t have to glance at a clock to know Berlin had already welcomed a new day. Not as other cities would have, mind you, but in that no-nonsense, tough guy attitude which would have made grief easier to hide. If only he had been there, he could have shoved his way past a crowd before telling someone to piss off, all the while he pretended nothing was the matter.

But he wasn't home, where morning would reach the easternmost corner of his secretary desk in time, lighting up the pages of his latest journal and the portrait of good ol' Fritz he kept by his bedside. He would have had breakfast some time later. A hearty one to quell the hunger pangs he experienced whenever he pulled an all-nighter in the name of hardcore gaming, or in this case, thanks to a Halloween party across the Atlantic.

His stomach rumbled on cue. He was so hungry he could wolf down a horse, but what he really needed was a drink. The problem wasn't really his empty stomach—even hole-in-the-wall bars were bound to have snacks—but the fact that he wouldn’t have been content with just one swig of beer. He would have ordered one shot of vodka, and then another to keep it company, and soon he would have started weeping into his glass and pulling strangers by the neck to tell them how great Fritz had been.

He had been great, indeed.

The old man had played such an integral role in his life that meeting him again, even if briefly, had made him break down in a cold, poorly-lit toilet stall, where no one could see the small chips in his iron front. But the storm was past. He was Prussia, a man among men, and he was one hundred percent fine, save for the part where he wanted to storm Sanssouci at the crack of dawn and lie next to Fritz’s tombstone.

While he had lost France and Spain in the commotion, and thus the promise of free drinks, at least he wasn't all by himself. There was his little brother, who knew better than to ask any questions, and also Italy, who was sweet enough to oblige in case anyone needed a hug. He was also free to pick on Austria, which felt so second nature to him that it did wonders for his mood. As long as he laughed loud enough to fill the silence, he knew everything would be all right.

There was only one puzzle left to complete the picture, and she didn't take long in coming. He picked up the sound of her steps before he even saw her, thinking, Here comes Hungary; it’s bound to be her. And so there she was, running in their direction with a big smile he knew wasn’t for him. He had been dying to meet her regardless, to tell her about Austria and, perhaps, to rile her a little. Just enough to see her face distort into that fiery brand of hate she seemed to save for him alone. It was childish of him, but out of all the things that he had left, this was one of the things he could truly call his own.

Except that he didn’t get the reaction he wanted out of her, or any for that matter. Instead, she ignored both his grand announcement and Austria's meek protests, spotting the kind of look that said she was lost in her private world, no admittance beyond this point. His heart sank a little, but he tried to shrug it off by giving it one more try, sliding next to her to engage her attention. She looked stunning in her costume, with the way her curls framed her waist and that lovely view of her cleavage.

He couldn’t help to get a kick out of seeing her, even now. It was only later that other kind of feelings came rushing in. Nostalgia, some disappointment, a wisp of anger at how unfair she was to him, sometimes. But tonight he just wanted to focus on the positive, if only because he felt a little . . . battered, was perhaps the word he was looking for, but she didn’t have to know that.

First, he gave her a soft nudge, then leaned to whisper in her ear, "A little bird told me you were thinking something perverted just now." It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but the mention of naked shenanigans had caught her interest, no doubt. You only had to look at her face to know that terrible mind of hers was coming up with all kinds of filthy things.

When she turned to see him, her mouth was shaped into a small oh. “I would never!” she said, but instead of reaching for the closest blunt object, she laughed. She was in a good mood.

"Uh-huh," he said. "Sure, I believe you."

She nudged him back. “And you? Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Prussia shrugged and looked behind her, where West and Austria were exchanging their opinion on inconsequential matters. He didn't want to meet her eyes, lest something about him tipped her off. 

“Because you met him.” Her voice grew sweet out of the blue, and he couldn't fail to notice the way her fingertips brushed his wrist and lingered there. Coming from her, such kindness was uncalled for. He felt like shrinking away from her touch, but he couldn't just yet, not when the warmth of her skin felt like home, even more so than her anger. 

He had wanted to resent her for not keeping her mouth shut, and assign to her the worst motives. Rather than pity, he figured that she just wanted to rub salt on the wound for laughs. But even at his most cynical, he couldn't believe any of that. What's more, he actually loved that she had seen beyond his act. In the privacy of his thoughts, he was smitten.

Sadly, pride was the gatekeeper of his feelings. He was governed by its dictates rather than by the ugly, deprived side of him that would have rejoiced at mere scraps of affection, so in the end, he scoffed. “It’s me that we’re talking about, Hungary. Don’t you forget it!”

"I never forget that. Believe me,” she said, letting go of his hand. "Just—"

He smirked at her. "Just what? What exactly were you going to say now?" He was a moment away from becoming the kind of irksome bastard she so despised.

“Just tell me if it’s otherwise, got it?” Hungary said curtly, a frown already in place. It made her sound like a bully. _Tell me or else!_

“Not that I would need to. To you, out of all people." He guffawed, loud enough that people turned their heads and took a single look at him, dismissed it as another one of his antics, and returned to whatever they were doing before.

But her eyes did not leave him. They burned into him like lit cigarette butts on tender flesh. If looks could kill, he would have already been six feet under. "Hungary, I—"

“I don't know why I even bother with you.”

And that was that. She turned to say something to Austria, all the while he felt like the biggest idiot to ever walk the Earth. He could have set his stupid misgivings aside and bask in her misplaced compassion. He could have asked for a kiss! It would have been worth the try, if anything to see her eyes go wide before she gave him a slap on the hand or worse.

"I would have favored Schubert," Prussia heard her say, not bothering to hear the rest. Her voice was sweet again, and he imagined that the wrinkles on her brow were gone too, that she was delighted to talk with Austria at last, just the two of them. Half of it might have been Prussia's fault, but this was the story he could tell himself later. She had ditched him to go back to that four-eyed, airheaded aristocrat as soon as possible.

But this didn't hold up either. He remembered the feel of her fingertips, and wondered how it would be to hold her hand again, after so long. It was something small, but when it came to her he was afraid to dream big. Bigger than that and he would have been deluding himself.

Like before, he came closer and tapped her shoulder, but this time a drop of sweat made its way down the collar of his costume. It was a risky move, and not just because he was about to face her wrath, but because now he wanted more than the sweet comfort of the familiar. Not her anger, but her small hand around his wrist.

"What now?" Hungary spat, even though moments ago she had sounded as happy as a child jumping on puddles. It was amazing, the magic that he brought about in her. He had the pissing-off touch. 

Prussia went as far as opening his mouth, but in that precise moment he caught sight of Austria's inquiring glance. He had no other choice but to clear his throat and jerk his head to the side, giving the busybody a pointed look. Nothing too rude that Hungary would find fault with it, but a clear signal that he should mind his own business. Austria let out a self-important little chuckle and turned the other way.

Hungary raised an eyebrow at the exchange, then twisted her lips into a sulky grimace that made her look charming. "Yes?"

"About before," Prussia whispered, a hand cupped around his mouth in case a certain someone was eavesdropping, after all. She hummed in reluctant encouragement, arms crossed in front of her chest. It was as much of an opening as he was going to get.

"I just shouldn't have—

"You see, what I really—

"Christ," he said on his third attempt, scrambling for words that moved her enough to forgive him for being disdainful and an all-around shithead.

"If that's all you are going to say—" Hungary started.

"No! God, no. Well, what do you know, it would seem there are some things I'm not that good at." Apologizing when he wasn't under duress was one of them. Sharing his feelings was another, but he wasn't sure whether she was fully aware of that. She might have had an inkling of an idea, because he excelled at laughing when he should have been doing otherwise, and he laughed far too much for his own good. But did she know how much he hated to feel vulnerable? It felt like he was going to be sick any minute without anyone to hold his forehead for him. No, he didn't think she knew. It was as hard as shitting bricks, that.

"Would it cut it if I said I was an idiot?"

A weary sigh pushed past her lips. "Fine, let's leave it at that."

He gulped, blinking twice to make sure he had gotten it right. "So we're good? Are we good?" Were he a dog, he would be whimpering and wagging his tail at this point, hoping he had been let off the hook for chewing on the newspaper earlier that morning.

She didn't quite give him a definite answer, pursing her lips before she said, "Eh, I suppose." It was clear that he had killed all of her interest. Not just killed it, but stomped on it before he spat on the remains. To say that he was an idiot was to put it kindly.

"Okay, then. I'll just . . ." Prussia trailed off, jerking his thumb behind him to let her know he was about to retreat in that direction. "Yeah," he added unprompted, fighting a titter before he spun on his heel and started walking. It was then that he felt a pull.

"And now where are you going?" Hungary asked with that same thuggish tone than before. _You better tell me or else!_

He wanted to smile a real smile, but again, all it came out was a smirk, even if he was delighted that she was balling her fist around the fabric of his cloak. It was as though she wanted to tear up his whole costume and take him right there. "Why, would you miss me if I were gone?"

Her features softened then, and at last, she released him from her grip. "The world would be duller without you in it," Hungary said, sad eyes, a warm smile. There was no shrug of her shoulders to make it look like it wasn't a big deal to her, just something kind which cost her nothing to say. No snicker either, to pass it as a joke. Unlike him, she was a strong-willed woman who declared her love out loud when she loved in earnest, and if she had gone so far as to tell him that, perhaps she still liked him a bit.

"I made you smile!" Hungary announced then, lively all of a sudden and a little smug. He hadn't even noticed he was smiling, but there it was, tugging at the corners of his lips. It felt like a smile all right. "Were you going to change clothes?"

"The evening's coming to a close," he said, by way of explanation.

"Come here." She pulled her phone, made them both fit into the camera frame, and took a picture. She must have liked it enough to add Austria as a prop, so off she went, taking another one of the three of them. West and Italy had gone elsewhere, as kids these days were wont to do.

"You stand out like a sore thumb, dressed as yourself," he told Austria, who looked decidedly sleepy.

And then that very same Austria, world-weary as he looked, gathered enough strength to flick dust from his coat and say, "At least I don't look like a court jester, you fool."

"Boys," Hungary said, and that left little room for something else. She looked at the pictures one more time with satisfaction, and after giving Prussia's hand a squeeze, she said, "Don't take long."

Prussia gave a nod and went away with a spring on his step. He was back on the men's restroom for the second time that night, but things couldn't be more different. The first time around he had come in barely holding back the tears, and while the lump in his throat hadn't gone away, it didn't hurt so much anymore. For one, he was still smiling.

Perhaps, when he went back, Hungary would be far too enthralled by Austria's senseless monologues to pay attention to him, but for now he let himself dream. Don't take long, she had said. Could it be that she—? He didn't dare to finish the thought and changed at light speed into a pair of old jeans that had faded well over the years—and would be called vintage nowadays, go figure—a winter jacket for the cold, and his trusty leather boots, which had lasted five years straight. Then he took the recycled paper bag he had brought and placed his costume there. Had Hungary not taken a picture of it, he would have felt bummed at the scant praise he had received. For no matter what the covetous naysayers said, it had been the coolest costume ever.

When he came back, she was taking off the small crown that decorated her hair, but even then she looked his way, which was a wonderful sign as far as signs went. Austria looked like he would fall asleep any minute and land on his nose, all the while Prussia breezed in as though he had just arrived for the party, hunger pushed to the back of his mind, and his urge for a drink delayed for a while. "I was thinking," he said, "do you still have the recording of that Halloween party? The one from a couple of years ago? West mentioned it, and I think I never asked you about it."

"Your dance number with India?" Her eyes lit up in such a fashion it took his breath away. Was she really a little into him? Man, just the thought was making his head spin. "Sure I do. Do you want me to send it to your email?"

"I'd love that," Prussia said, wondering just when she had gotten hold of his address and why he hadn't received a single email before, and then Italy came around, announcing they were off to Japan, honey!

"Tokyo, then," he told her, a grin on his face. He had wanted to go back home, but now he had an excuse for the night not to end, and for her not to leave his side yet, not when they had had such a good rapport until now, except for a few blips on the road.

"Yeah," she said, and taking a look at the flowing skirt of her dress, she raised the hem an inch. "Oh, I need to change first."

"Do you need help . . . carrying your things?" He pursed his lips instead of smiling, lest she took it as an indecent proposal of some sort. Not that he wouldn't have loved to make one or more.

"Thank you," Hungary said, and after she told West to keep an eye on Austria, which went without saying, she took Prussia's hand and led him just outside the women's restroom. There, Hungary rummaged in her bag for a while, and after she had gathered all the things she needed, she left it to his care.

He waited for her, and although he thought he would wait for a while indeed, it wasn't long until she came out, peeking around the door and looking left and right. After she made sure the coast was clear, she said, "Come," and pulled him inside.

"Whoa!" Prussia said, but almost everybody had left by then, so any other girl should have packed her things and gone home already. Once he had that in mind, he felt like less of a pervert. "Uh, yeah?"

"I can't zip it down," Hungary said, standing before the sink with her back turned to him. "It's stuck on some piece of fabric or something."

"Oh God," he said out loud, although he hadn't meant to. It had been centuries since he had scrammed after seeing her chest up to her belly button, and he wasn't a kid anymore. In his long, long life he had seen and experienced his share of obscenities, artistic nudes, and artistic obscenities, but this was Hungary, and he still was a stupid kid when it came to her, sometimes.

"One time I fought a dress one-handedly in some department store's dressing room. It took me a good fifteen minutes to set myself free, to the point that I almost gave up and ripped the damn thing apart like one of America's superheroes. I just hate it when that happens! Don't you?"

"Zippers, yeah. Sure, I hate it too, but it's worse when it gets caught on your skin down there and—" Prussia laughed awkwardly. He was making it worse, babbling as though he were new to this, a boy just wising up to the fact that there existed a different kind of human very unlike boxy, flat-chested men. "And on your neck! Has that ever happened to you? Hell, it hurts bad. The other day I zipped up this leather jacket really fast, the kind that has a brass zipper instead of plastic, and did that hurt like a bitch. It looked like a rabid vampire had bit my neck aiming to kill or like a spider had left a vicious, vengeful hickey."

"Oh God," Hungary echoed his earlier words, but not the same sentiment. She was holding her stomach and a single tear was streaming down her face. She was laughing her head off.

He blinked. "Something I said?"

"I swear you always have these absurd, yet incredibly vivid descriptions," she said, still laughing. "Okay, let's hurry or we might stay here forever, swapping stories."

How long had it been since he had last made her laugh? He almost sighed. "Not that I would mind, but okie-dokie."

"Mm," she hummed in agreement. He left the bags next to the sink, and just as he was about to get on with the job, Hungary said, "Wait, don't look." She seemed coy rather than genuinely bashful, but he took her at her word.

"I like a good challenge as much as anyone," Prussia said with a determined look, rolling up his sleeves as though it was a matter of elbow grease rather than precision. He then closed his eyes and reached for her hair. He wondered how many hours it took until all of it got dry, and then he pictured her with her hair wet and tousled, curls shining lighter against the sun.

He didn't think of her emerging from the water after a few laps around the pool, something she liked to do often enough, nor did he think of rain getting caught in her hair, common as it was during November. He thought of her coming out of the shower and smiling at him, and what really got him going wasn't just the fact that she would be in all of her naked glory underneath the fluffy embrace of one of his large bath towels, but the implied intimacy of a shared morning.

He could almost smell the scent of the coffee West would have left for them, and hear her footfalls before she sat on the border of the bed, and see the droplets of water running free down her back, which he would have picked up with his fingers. He could see it with such clarity, in fact, that it made him feel nostalgic for all the things that had never happened between them and that perhaps would never will.

"Wait," she said, pulling him out of his reverie. He felt how she took her hair out of the way to make things easier for him, brushing his hands as she did so. He placed his hand over the small of her back, fingertips barely touching the fabric, and she said in an amused tone, "Cold," and then, as he made his way from there to the path between her shoulder blades to the start of the zipper in question, "Warm. Warmer. Hot."

After a brief struggle, he yanked the fabric free, and for a glimpse of a moment he felt a patch of skin, warm like a sunny day. "There," he said, his voice small and his throat a little dry.

"Thanks," she said, and he heard the swish of her skirt, and then the sound of her steps echoing against the tiles.

He kept quiet for a full minute before he managed, "Sure. Anytime!"

Hungary chuckled. "You can open your eyes now." When he looked at the mirror on the wall, he saw her standing by the stall's door, a hint of her bare back partially clouded by her hair. "You really didn't look," she said with a smile and went inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Their party of six reached Tokyo well past noon, bleary-eyed and starving, but in good spirits. It was easy to tell from the way West's voice sounded relaxed instead of crackling with stress at the edges, and also from how everybody laughed—all in good fun, of course—when Prussia's stomach growled loud enough to resemble a battle cry.

Japan went to great pains to assure them that they would reach their destination in no time, but he couldn't help a tiny smile either. Even Austria seemed to find it amusing, and he had been out of it for most of the trip. "What are you laughing at? Your gut rumbles in F minor or something?" Prussia said, but he couldn't help laughing too.

"I think I have a cookie left," Hungary said, reaching for her pocket. They had bought a few snacks along the way to hold out for the real thing, but it was clear that chips and candy bars alone had failed to live up to expectations.

"Want to go halfsies?" Prussia asked her, hoping that she would say yes, even though he probably needed all the food he could get on his hands. He wouldn't be surprised if he had a hole on his stomach by now.

She took a little bite, and given that he was still carrying most of their things, she fed him the rest. The tip of her thumb brushed his lower lip as she did so, and perhaps he should have felt ashamed to feel this overjoyed at something so small, but to hell with it. He munched happily on his share and even tried to whistle with his cheeks full of crumbs. It might have been nothing but a modest store-bought treat, but as far as he was concerned, it was so much more.

The rest of the road was a breeze after that, even if his sugar-powered energy boost didn't last. The clouds had formed a tight-knit pattern on the sky, threatening to overflow on their unsuspecting heads any minute now, so he had to hurry through the streets along everybody else, maneuvering around busy pedestrian traffic.

"I'll race you," Hungary said out of the blue and went for a shortcut, taking one of the bags from his hands to make it fair. He didn't even pause to consider how sensible her idea was—he had never been one for careful consideration, after all. He simply started running after her.

"Brother!" he heard West say, but there was no way he could turn back now and let Hungary out of his sight.

"Ooh! Go Hungary! Go Prussia!" Italy said, cheering them both at the same time.

They ended up running around the block, and although some passers-by were staring at them as though they had a screw loose, he was having the time of his life. That is, until he slipped and slammed his side against a tree, all childhood memories forgotten. "Fuck," he said under his breath. It didn't hurt all that much, or so he told himself, but it made him slow down enough for her to approach the end of the sidewalk uncontested.

Hungary saw what had happened and came running back to him, making his cheeks feel warm with embarrassment. "Keep going," he told her, playing it cool, "you're winning!"

"Did you hurt yourself?"

There were tiny drops of water clinging to her hair, and it took all of his willpower not to take her in his arms and kiss her. The only thing that stopped him on his tracks was the idea of his face stinging on top of his shoulder, ribs, and hip, which were all sore after the impact. She would slap him if he as so much cupped her face without warning, wouldn't she?

But would she really?

"What, with this? This is nothing," Prussia said, patting the tree's trunk with poorly concealed contempt. It was nothing but a ridiculous sapling, but damn if it hadn't knocked the wind out of his sails. It was going to leave many a nasty bruise come tomorrow. 

She looked sheepish. "It was all my fault."

"Nah. It was fun!" Prussia said, grinning at her. Perhaps they were being childish, but who could blame them? Things were much easier when they were kids, even if it hadn't seemed so at the time. His biggest problem back then had been feeling up her—

"Wasn't it!" Hungary said, laughing.

He stuttered, "Y-yeah!"

They made their way to the main avenue after they stopped for tea to go for everyone. The others were only a block away from where Prussia had last seen them, chatting under a bus stop to take shelter from the rain.

"And?" West asked, arms crossed across his chest.

Italy sprung from his seat and waved at them as soon as he saw them approach. "Who won?"

"Austria-san and I agreed that Hungary-san had the upper hand," Japan said, closing the map app he had been showing to the others.

"Indeed," Austria said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his pampered nose.

"It was a tie," Hungary said kindly, protecting his stupid pride for God only knew what reason. It was completely unnecesary and yet . . . Yet it made Prussia feel warm inside like a huge Christmas tree full of candles.

"Well."

"Aw!"

"Oh."

"Truly?"

There was some disappointment upon finding no one had come out the winner, or rather, upon finding Hungary hadn't won, but Prussia set the record straight. "She won single-handedly. She made me beat the dust of defeat! She wiped the floor with me," he said with a wide grin. He wasn't a sore loser, but that was beside the point. He was happy about it all, win or lose.

"I had a head start, and none of us made it to the finish line anyway." Hungary looked at him out of the corner of her eye, mouth curving into a smile. There was the loveliest tinge of red on her cheeks, perhaps from the run itself. 

If France had been with them, this was the moment when he would have told them to get a room, most likely. It was the thing with France, he needed little encouragement to shout that kind of things to people. Things like, " _Mon Dieu_ , get a room already!" or "You and I should get a room with a view to the Eiffel Tower by twilight! Shall we?" It was all the same; he had a one-track mind. Regardless, he wasn't there to prod them, and Prussia didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. 

Hungary apologized for making them wait and handed them the paper cups, ladylike in her manners even though she had embraced her old tomboy ways just moments ago. But this was part of her too, the kind of subtle refinement she had picked after years of living under Austria's roof. She could act like a demure lady if the situation called for it, and become a spitfire whenever it struck her fancy. There were two of her, and he would be fooling himself if he said he didn't love them both.

"It doesn't seem like it will let up any soon," Austria said, sipping on his tea and making no effort to leave his post on the bus stop's bench. It was just like his spoiled ass to ask for a break every two steps.

"We might as well keep going," West said with the kind of pragmatism everybody expected of him.

Prussia looked at Hungary, who simply shrugged. "We're already damp, so it's fine by me," she said. 

In the end, the weather took mercy on them and let them reach the house without raining on them too badly, and ever the gracious host, Japan provided them with a hearty meal, the warmth of a kotatsu, and long-awaited beverages to make it up for the experience.

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do," Hungary said. She had handed him a towel before, smoothing his hair as she passed by. He had thought that it was only light-hearted teasing on her part, but there she was now, sitting next to him and pouring him a drink.

They took turns after that, sharing a moment of silent camaraderie while the rest kept the conversation going. West, for instance, was trying his best to distance himself from topics related to public governance, but he was failing in the attempt. His little brother couldn't help himself.

"Listen, Italy," West said, setting down his drinking cup while Italy hurried to fill it all the way to the rim, doing his best to distract him. "The scolding you received from your former bosses didn't come out of nowhere, exactly."

"I know I said I ought to reflect on my past behavior, Germany, but—!"

"If I may say so again, I believe that considering their words as encouragement is for the best," Japan offered, raising his cup to his lips.

"Zzz," Austria snored.

West started to mention something about the G8, but Hungary wasn't part of that and Prussia hadn't gone to a summit in years, so there was room for more of what he and Hungary were doing—stealing a look from time to time, pouring a drink for one another, and bumping his knee against hers without meaning to.

"Get a room, you two," the France in his mind said, adding a wink for good measure. It was probably a sign that the liquor was going to his head, so he left his cup half-full.

She smiled. "Did you have enough?"

"Maybe, yeah. I—" Prussia trailed off.

It wasn't like she was mocking him or anything to that effect, but he still didn't want her to think of him as a wimp who couldn't hold his liquor. On the other hand, explaining to her that he might start to get sentimental if he kept drinking seemed just as bad. He usually was a bundle of rowdy happiness whenever he had a beer too many, but he had enough cause to believe he would make for a sad drunk this time around, and no one wanted to see that. 

"It's been a long night," she said, saving him the trouble to explain himself any further.

"Yeah . . . Hungary?" He saw her walk on her knees to turn around him, holding his waist for support until she settled to his left. "Is this some kind of weird mating dance?" Prussia asked in all seriousness, feeling a spark of electricity between his ribs, there where her fingers had settled.

She snorted, finding the whole thing amusing. "You must have hit that tree pretty hard, and I don't want to hurt you," Hungary said.

"Hurt me how?"

Everything became clear when she took to lean against him, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Prussia thanked Old Fritz's guidance and his lucky stars for the outcome. It was crazy to think he might have ended up wasted on a back alley miles away from home if only he had done the first thing that came to his mind. Instead, Hungary was next to him, playing with his fingers below the kotatsu.

"What are you doing there?" he whispered in her ear. Before he knew it, the reunion had degenerated from an afternoon filled with world meetings' anecdotes into some kind of karaoke night, with Italy singing a cappella and Austria, who was now awake, moving his fingers in the air as though he stood on a conductor's podium. West hummed along, hiding a smile behind his fist.

"I'm drumming to the rhythm of the song." Hungary touched her knuckles to his, using her free hand to wave at Japan. Prussia only noticed that Japan was holding an instant camera after he presented the picture to them, setting it over the table with utmost care. It had Hungary resting her head on his arm while he looked down at her. Only at her.

"Mind if I keep it?" Prussia asked, holding the photo in his palm.

Japan nodded before he returned to his seat. "By all means."

Prussia thanked him and showed it to Hungary, who ran a finger over the glossy surface and said, "You look—"

"—awesome?"

Her laughter wasn't malicious but rich and delightful, complete with little aftershocks that made his body shake along hers. She was so close that he could have gotten away with wrapping an arm around her waist, lightly touching the curve of her hip. He was torn, because all of her said that she liked him, but he didn't know whether he was going too fast.

For all he knew, she was barely warming up to the idea of seeing him as something more than an annoyance. Perhaps she just wanted to flirt with no strings attached for now, and if there was something in store for them, only time would tell. And what if—what if she actually knew what she wanted from the get go? The logical thing would have been to man up and ask her, but he was too wound up to think straight, let alone to phrase a question.

"I was going to say you look—" she started, and Prussia pretended not to fidget in his seat, waiting for the key that would unlock the mystery. . .

. . .and then West started singing in Italian, and even Prussia turned to look because it was surprising as hell, but goddamn. He had some shitty luck. He pocketed the photo when no one was looking and tried not to look disappointed, whispering to Hungary, "I taught him how to sing!"

Hungary let out a little chuckle, wrapping her fingers around the crook of his elbow. She seemed fascinated by it all, and for a moment he tried to see the scene through her eyes. West's cheeks were red, which she might have found adorable in that doting parent way both of them fell prey to from time to time. But that wasn't the whole story, was it?

Prussia took a good look at his brother, at the way he looked at Italy, and then at the little quiver shaping the corner of his lips as though he wanted to smile but couldn't bring himself to do it, to let a full smile out in the open lest it became an incriminatory proof of something else.

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Oh," Prussia mouthed. His baby brother had fallen for someone, and that someone was no other than Italy. He was startled to find how blind he had been. He also felt a little guilty upon remembering how West seemed less than thrilled whenever Prussia went on and on about his frequent visits to the Italian countryside.

Prussia had thought stupidly that West had been jealous because he was prone to give Italy his full attention instead of focusing on his own little brother—who had nothing little about him anymore—but he couldn't have been more wrong.

"I don't remember the rest of it," West excused himself, grabbing his cup to take a swig.

"But Germany!" Italy protested then. "It was beautiful!"

"That's enough for today, I think," West said, and the silence that followed his statement was so thick, that it put an end to the night. West's cheeks had only grown redder since then, which made Prussia realize that regardless of how much awesomeness West had inherited from him, both of them were damn awkward when it came to their feelings. He hoped against hope that it took West much less time than it had taken him to do something about it, even if he wasn't sure that he was doing something now, other than winging it.

"Something on your mind?" Hungary said, looking at him as though he had become a matter of great interest. It made him feel both self-conscious and so giddy he felt like following in West's steps and serenading her in Hungarian.

"Many things," he said, looking down not to blurt something stupid under the intensity of her gaze. "None of which I can elaborate on without tripping on my tongue like a big-mouthed idiot."

"That's okay." She smiled at him and stood up, extending a hand towards him. He took it and she helped him to get up. The first thing he did upon finding himself on his feet was to stumble into her without meaning to, and she had to hug his waist to steady him.

"Well, then," Hungary said, letting go of him once she made sure he wouldn't fall over. "Sleep tight, you."

"Dream of me," he told her, which she replied to with a giggle. And with that she walked away, turning one more time to look back at him.

"Did you see that? I ain't dreaming, am I?" Prussia said to no one in particular.

"I did, and no, you aren't," West's voice came from behind. He then gave Prussia a push in the direction of what he supposed was his designed room. "This way, Brother."

Prussia chuckled. "Got it, got it."

It wasn't the first time that his little brother took it upon himself to see that Prussia wouldn't trip over his own feet, but given that West was also tipsy, things went from funny to hilarious. They started to run into the walls, all the while Japan went to see that no one ended up in the storage room by mistake.

Once West helped him to lie down, he sat on the other futon and deflated like a balloon, shoulders slumped forward.

Prussia turned on his side and looked at him. "Didn't you prefer to share the room with Italy?"

West's cheeks regained color just as his forehead puckered to the point where it resembled a wrinkled t-shirt. Since Prussia usually teased him, there was no way for West to know that he was being sincere. "I mean it. I wouldn't mind to share a room with Austria. I swear I won't strangle him in his sleep, if that's what you're worried about. Really, that rivalry of ours is more play than anything at this point."

"It doesn't matter," West said, letting himself fall on his futon.

Prussia knew asking would only make West clam up, so he let it go for now. "Okay," he said, shifting so that he was lying on his back.

The silence between them grew to the point where Prussia had started to close his eyes, but then West said, "About the party tonight, I meant to ask..."

"Don't ask. I rather not tell," Prussia said with a chuckle, and West gave a single nod. "Hey, do you remember when you were a kid and you were afraid of the dark?"

West groaned. "God, don't go there."

"See? No, but my point is, I know I mess with you sometimes, because it's the thing big brothers do so that little brothers don't forget about them, but I always— Uh, I always— What I mean is that you can count on me, okay? I'm not your big brother just in name. You can trust me."

West chuckled. "Okay, Brother."

"Yeah. And now sleep! Do you want me to tell you a story like I used to do back in the day?"

"No, cut it out."

"Fine!" Prussia said, laughing. He remained awake until West fell asleep, the sound of his breathing soft and rhythmic. His baby brother was as self-sufficient as Prussia himself was, but everybody could use a little help, sometimes.

"Ain't that right, West?" Prussia whispered. He tucked West in, pulling the covers up to his chin. He couldn't help himself and ruffled his hair too, making West mumble something unintelligible in his sleep.

He choked back a cackle and lay down at last, wondering whether Hungary would be asleep already, and whether she had sweet kinky dreams that involved him in that very moment. It wasn't long until he followed suit and closed his eyes, but his dreams were altogether different in nature.

For starters, there was none of the hazy quality dreams were known for. It was sunny outside, and he could feel the sun touching his skin gently. He could even see the small indents on the flight of stairs leading to Sanssouci, and he could hear the echo that his steps made as he went inside the palace. 

Prussia settled on his favorite chair, a sturdy piece of furniture that was older than Fritz by a few years. His fingers picked up the rough feel of the wood, as though he were reacquainting himself with it all after being absent for far too long. His every notion of the future seemed to be slipping away with each minute, until there was no other present but this one.

Fritz appeared on the doorway—he was there in the flesh and thoroughly so present that it made Prussia's heart ache, although he didn't know why then. They had started to discuss the profits of the last war and ended up laughing at Austria’s meek attempts to regain Silesia back, and that was when Prussia left his eyes wander for a second.

Beyond the tall windows, people were roaming freely. "Tourists," he said under his breath before the thought could sink in. Some of them had gathered in groups, taking pictures of the scenery and of themselves, while others were pressing their noses against the windowpanes, pointing at him with grubby fingers as though he had become Potsdam's most popular attraction, a one-man freak show.

When he turned to see his King, Fritz became dust before his eyes, and along with him, the whole of Sanssouci started to crumble away around Prussia. He sat up straight on his chair, a silent scream coming out of his mouth before the roof gave away.

His heart was racing a mile per minute and everything was dark, as he imagined it would be below pounds and pounds of rubble. His chest felt tight—he was so certain that the roof had collapsed on top of him that he actually jolted as soon as someone touched his cheek. His first impulse was to call Fritz's name, but Prussia knew in his heart that it wasn't him.

He felt how a pair of arms enveloped him all at once, holding him tightly. “It’s okay,” a voice said gently, “it was just a bad dream, Prussia."

Little by little, his surroundings started to make sense. They had come to Japan’s house to keep on partying, and everything had been swell up to this point. But now he was shaking, and he could also feel the tears pooling on the corner of his eyes. He tried to laugh it off and say it was no big deal, but nothing came out from his lips.

"It's okay,” Hungary whispered, caressing his face. "It's okay."

He let her hold him. He just let himself be held by her for a little while, arms thrown limply across his lap and at his side, as though he were nothing more than a rag doll. He was so lost that he felt like weeping, but soon enough his instincts took control of the situation. He was better than this. He wasn't a fucking weakling, for fuck's sake.

He tried to disengage from her embrace, turning his face away. He needed her so much that he found it hard to breathe, but at the same time she was the last person he wanted to see right now. He didn't want her to see him like this, breaking down over something so small as a figment of his imagination. Wasn't that what a dream was all about? Just the result of his feeble mind playing games?

"Prussia," Hungary started.

His throat was dry, but even then he managed a croak before she kept on talking. Before she was able to tell him just how pitiful he looked. “Did someone else— Did anyone hear a thing?” Across the room, West seemed to be sleeping without issue, so he didn't think it was the case, but the thought that someone else might have heard him cry out made him want to die from embarrassment.

She shook her head. "They're still sleeping.”

“Did I wake you up?” He chuckled, dabbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. He did his best to save face, or at the very least, he tried to turn the situation into something they could joke about. “Do you know that kind of dream where you laugh so hard you wake up in tears? Well, it was just like that, only that—”

His voice broke at this point, and she saw it fit to complete the sentence by saying, "Only that it was the opposite?”

“Shit,” he said, springing to his feet. He stumbled against a wall before he dashed outside, running away from her as fast as he could.

The air outside was crisp rather than cold, but it still made him shiver. It was early in the morning, which meant that the night was still young back home. He didn't know why, but that thought alone almost made him want to tear up again, as though there was anything special about prime time television.

Hungary had followed after him, placing a hand on his arm without saying a word.

“No offense, but I want to be alone,” Prussia said, regretting the words the moment he opened his mouth. It wasn't true; he didn't want to be alone any more than he wanted to cry his heart out, but it was what was expected of him. Everybody knew he had heaps of fun being on his own, right?

The worst part of his stupid nothing-is-wrong-with-me charade was that Hungary actually believed him. She nodded and let go of him, not without squeezing his hand first. Prussia knew that it was his own damn fault, and that if he wanted her to stay, he only had to say so. But he wouldn't, even if it hurt him in the process. What could he possibly say?

He tried to take his mind away from it all and focus on Japan's garden, which was all kinds of pretty. It was something out of a coffee table book, complete with nice greenery and koi swimming back and forth around a path made out of small white stones. It was safe to say that such a sight would have brought peace to anyone—it simply had a certain zen feel to it.

But he wasn't anyone and, to be honest, his eyes were so blurry that he wouldn't have been able to tell a chrysanthemum from a four-leaf clover. He let out a shuddering breath in spite of himself, rubbing his arms for comfort just as Hungary whispered from the porch, “Are you sure you don't want me to hang around?”

He turned at once, staring at her as though she was a vision of some sort. A part of him was scared that she might disappear, so he shook his head rather emphatically without tearing his eyes from her. Perhaps he looked like a child, a big, pathetic child who had lost his way, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

She closed the distance between them, and then said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

He nodded, biting the inside of his lip not to let a single tear fall.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing she did was to take his hand in hers, leading him back inside without saying a word. He was glad not to have to lead and just follow, glad that he didn't have to face her and let her see him teary and riding on little sleep. He probably looked like shit.

The house was still cast in shadows, but that sat well with him. Light would have made it all too obvious, and besides, he could feel the start of a nasty headache pulsing on his brow. Too little sleep, really. He was getting old.

He looked ahead and focused on the warmth of her palm, and then the hint of curves hiding below her clothes. His chest hurt, but his eyes worked just fine, even below a layer of misty inconvenience. He would have had to be blind not to notice the way her hips swayed, and simply out of his mind not to appreciate the sight of her body.

Prussia almost chuckled. He was sad, and he was starting to feel frisky, and everything was so surreal that he could have started laughing his head off for no reason at all. It almost seemed as though all he needed was a little push to spiral out of control and go mad. But her hold was strong, and again, so nicely warm. Just like before, her touch was soothing and kept him grounded in reality, away from dark thoughts and bad dreams alike.

"Come here," Hungary said softly, making him seat on the floor of her room. She had one all for herself, and he couldn't help feeling like a boy sneaking into an all-girls boarding school past lights out. It made his heart beat a notch faster, to look at her profile and see her hair fall over her face just as she pulled a notepad from her bag.

"Will you tell them we're eloping?" Prussia did his best to joke around, even if he couldn't help a sniffle at the end. Humor was his way to deflect attention from himself, and by the amused look on Hungary's face, it had worked.

"Something like it. I'll change in a heartbeat," she said with a smile, handing him the note before she reached for the neatly folded pile of clothes by her bedside. Japan had probably taken care of their wet clothing while they took turns waiting for their bath.

Next thing he knew, he was picturing the bathwater hugging Hungary's body and yielding to her shape like soft clay. He couldn't help himself—she looked beautiful in the half-light. She always did. And he was aching and full of juvenile thoughts all at once, that and the fervent wish to hold her to him, to embrace her.

Her eyes fell on him then, lips curled into a little smile. "Prussia?"

"Yes?" He blinked a few times, until he finally noticed what was going on. "Oh, you were waiting for me to leave, right? Heh, sorry," he said, scratching his head as he stood up. "I should change clothes too. See you outside the house, then?"

"Or you could just turn around for a bit," Hungary said.

"Or, yeah, let's do that." He sat on the floor with his back to her and slid the door closed, guarding it as though he were back to his days as the Teutonic Order, defending her borders once again. He chuckled at the thought, pressing his chin to his chest to muffle the sound.

It still prompted her to ask, "What's that?"

"Just picturing myself here," Prussia said, gesturing widely in front of him before he gave a firm nod, "defending your gates from the enemy's likely ambush." He heard the rustle of fabric and then her laughter.

"Like when we were kids, you mean?" 

"Yeah."

She leaned over him until her hair tickled his cheek. "I'm ready."

He turned his head back, staring at her with what was probably not the smartest look ever. "That I can see," he croaked.

They dropped by his room, where he changed silently so as not to wake West, but also as fast as he could, in order to join her at once. He straightened his covers and then knelt on the floor to uncrumple the note Hungary had given him, holding it against the window. He had to strain his eyes, but once he managed to read a thing, it took all of his willpower not to giggle like a schoolboy who had ran into his crush on the way to the school. The note read:

Prussia and I went on an adventure. (・◇ ・)  
—Hungary

She had taken the trouble to draw a little bird, which made her note seem a million times more awesome than it would have been otherwise. She could have chosen a more neutral-sounding message too, but it was almost as though she was relishing in advance the time they would get to spend together.

"Oh man," he whispered into his fist. A part of him was aware that he was reading too much into a few words, but it still made him place the note with utmost care over his pillow, just before he exited the room with a sleepy smile stamped on his face.

"Ready?" Hungary asked.

"For an adventure? Sure," he said.

She let out a chuckle, and after hooking her arm in his, she said, "Let's go, then."

They took a cab downtown, even though the rain was lighter that morning. Each droplet seemed to bide its time until it made up its mind on where to fall, dotting the windows one at a time. It was a nice atmosphere, even a little romantic, until a plum-sized drop decided to land square on his nose just as they emerged from the car, making Hungary laugh. "Wait," she said, opening the umbrella she had borrowed to keep him safe and dry.

The rain also filled the silence between them, until Prussia said, "So West, huh? How dare he keep me in the dark?" He didn't feel ready to talk about what had happened earlier and Hungary hadn't pressed the subject either, as though following his cue.

"Don't feel bad about it," she said, waving a hand in front of her. "For all people say about a woman's instinct, it was Austria, and then Japan, who clued me in."

"Austria? Austria _knew_? How could that pompous, self-absorbed oddball possibly know and not me, his very own brother?"

Hungary patted his arm instead of smacking him for daring to speak about Austria in such terms. It was a small token of affection that wasn't lost on him. "I don't think Italy even knows, at least not for sure," she said.

"Ahhh!" Prussia exclaimed to the heavens, smacking his forehead in frustration. "I know West. Centuries could go by before he makes a move!"

She sighed. "Don't think I wouldn't love to meddle. But deep down I think it's best to leave the kids on their own."

He was biting the inside of his cheek so hard, he thought he would draw blood. "You think?"

"Yes, because some things are worth the wait. Because when the time is right, everything just falls into place," Hungary said, looking at him with those pretty eyes of hers. God, she had never looked at him like that before, with a shade of pink coloring her cheeks and the kind of loving look that made him remember all the times she had shoved him out of the way to join Austria's side. But Austria was nowhere to be seen, so the only other possibility was that she was looking at him.

Prussia had imagined this moment before, the day where she would finally acknowledge the magnificent world masterpiece that was him. There had even been days when he had pictured again and again just how he would take her by the waist and bring her close to him, only to whisper in her ear, "Of course you fancy me. I might not be all that indifferent to you either." But right now he felt humbled and thankful, and so content despite how tired he was, that he stifled a yawn with a chuckle.

Hungary laughed too, averting her eyes from him. "Or maybe I'm full of it and they do need a push in the right direction. I'll have a chat with Italy."

He might have made a sound in agreement, or perhaps he simply remained quiet after that, as though walking on clouds. Unlike before, everything felt hazy now, to the point where he thought he might be dreaming again. For all he knew, he would wake up any minute now with a stupid grin on his face. 

"Hey, don't step out into the rain," Hungary said softly. Her fingers brushed his face then, wiping raindrops he hadn't even noticed. Her touch felt real, so wonderfully real that he wrapped his hand around hers and pressed it against his cheek.

"I must have nodded off for a second there," he said, closing his eyes and taking in her warmth for a moment. "Maybe we could take shelter somewhere? Like that place over there. That looks nice," he said, staring blearily at some fancy, well-lit sign he could barely make out in his half-awake state.

"There?" Hungary giggled. "I'm pretty sure that's a love hotel."

"Eh?" he asked, blinking at her. "As in—"

"Yeah."

"Ah," he said with a sheepish smile. "Then we probably should go someplace else."

"Nah," Hungary said, and then, when he gaped at her, she added, "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to lend you an ear just to grope your chest afterwards, as a certain someone once did."

"So you remember that," Prussia said, feeling his face tingle with embarrassment. "If it makes you feel any better I spent days on end in penitence, regretting my sins."

"Really? That's just too cute." She took a moment to look at him before mussing up his hair. "Looking back, you were a cute kid."

He beamed at her, everything else forgotten in light of her compliment. "Wasn't I? Ah, I really was the cutest. So full of life and energy, little me."

"Yes, you were," she said, walking him into the hotel before he could get a word in edgewise.

"Uh, wait. Are we really doing this?"

"Sure, that way you can lie down for a while," Hungary said, resting her head on his arm and hiding a yawn behind her fingers. She seemed completely at ease with him and the idea of having a sleepover that early in the morning, in a place where the large majority had far less innocent intentions about how to spend their time. Somehow, the thought made him smile.

"Okay," Prussia said, staring at the full selection of rooms in display. "What now?"

"I'm afraid there's no Hello Kitty themed room here to match your cuteness, but these will have to do. Take your pick?"

"I guess this one will do," he said, pointing at one that seemed cozy enough for the two of them. "They all seem rather normal, huh? All things considering, I mean."

"You really wanted a themed room, didn't you?" Hungary asked with a knowing smile just as she pressed a little button.

"Well, we had come this far," he said, laughing.

Once in their room, they took their time checking the range of amenities they had at their disposal, giggling and snickering like immature little children at both the adult channels and the facial masks. 

"Maybe we could do this again," he said, sitting on the bed, "and stay the night on a hostel in the middle of nowhere just for the hell of it. We could even pretend we are a couple of old friends hitting the road," he added, in case that made it more likely to happen. 

"Aren't we?"

"What, friends? Are we?"

"We do know each other since forever." Hungary sat next to him, and he tried his utmost not to break into a smile the moment her leg brushed his.

"I know," he said, clearing his throat to look more serious than he felt. "We should have been best buds."

"Yeah," she said, a little wistful.

"No reason why we can't still try," Prussia said. In answer, she placed her palm on the back of his hand, interlacing their fingers, and he almost melted on the spot. That was all she needed to do for him to be at her beck and call, to graze his skin. He was that easy.

"You know," Hungary started, and he had the feeling that what was coming was either going to be really awesome or it was going to be the biggest letdown in history. "I couldn't sleep earlier. I was there, lying in bed with my eyes wide open—"

"And then you heard me," he said before she mentioned it, looking away instead of meeting her eyes. He pictured himself looking helpless and pitiful, and try as he might, he couldn't fathom why she hadn't made for the hills yet.

"And then I was struck by the urge to watch you while you slept. That and the urge to pee, but I mostly wanted to check on you," Hungary said, laughing. If he didn't know her as well as he did, he would have said she was feeling a little embarrassed. 

"Did you?" Prussia said, not giving credit to what he was hearing. He didn't think the stars could align and bring about miracles such as this one, which meant her feelings weren't so new, after all. Which meant that for all the times he had yearned to be with her and felt frustrated at how they always seemed to clash against each other, she had been feeling like that too, at least sometimes.

"Yeah," she said, playing with the tips of her hair. Was she nervous, even a little? She needn't be. If only she knew all she had to do was to say a word and he would be hers. For all intents and purposes he already was.

"I think I'm ready now," he started, even if he didn't know how to continue. Even if most of him wanted to keep pretending nothing was the matter while he licked his wounds in private. But then he thought of her arms around him, making him feel safe. He thought of her smile, and then of her warm hands.

"Fritz got to answer a question of mine," Prussia said at last, almost in a whisper. "He said, well, I think he said it wasn't time yet, not at all. Something like that."

"What did you ask?"

Prussia went for his most cheery tone and said, "Whether, you know, whether I would be joining him up there soon. Not exactly getting any younger, myself.” He let out a chuckle, or perhaps two, to dispel the tension. He felt raw and silly at the same time.

"Did he say that?" Hungary's voice was still sweet, even though her grip was tighter.

"Yeah, don't worry. He really said that, I swear! See, I remember it perfectly. He said it just before he put his palm on top of my head, like this," Prussia said, letting his hand fall heavy on his knee. He was sure that if he closed his eyes, he would be able to see Fritz again. He remembered him that clearly. "And then he said he was proud of me."

The lump in his throat returned without prior notice, and he started chuckling and clearing his throat all at once, but it made him sound like he was losing it instead of keeping it together. The only thing he was glad about was the fact that he hadn't made a complete fool out of himself yet. Sadly, it was only a matter of time. One of his eyes had already turned on the waterworks, which meant that he had to scram before the side of his face she could actually see got all teary.

This wasn't how he wanted things to turn out. He wanted to open up to her and then tell her he liked her as much as Germans liked Christmas. That is, a whole lot. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but what came out of his mouth instead was, "I need to take a leak."

Hungary ignored him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him towards her body. Embarrasingly enough, that's all the encouragement he needed to hold onto her waist like a man overboard would do with a lifebuoy.

"Do you really need to pee?" she asked.

"No. Maybe later," he said, resting his cheek on her shoulder. "God, you're so warm I don't know what to do with myself."

She actually chuckled at that. "You're not so bad yourself."

He breathed her scent in, nestling his head against her neck. "Just so you know . . . It's only my . . . my eyeballs." His voice kept breaking here and there, but he did his best to seem cool about it all. "Leaking on your coat, I mean. It isn't my nose. You can skip the dry cleaners."

"It's okay, it's a rainy day," she said, stroking his hair ever so gently. "Do you want me to sing you something?"

"If it's that suicide song again . . . I think I'll pass."

"No, you'll see."

She was all sweetness, even more so when he closed his eyes and heard nothing but her voice, wrapping him gently and keeping the world at bay. His body felt heavy and his thoughts were getting more and more muddled with each minute that went by, but it didn't matter. It was peaceful, being there with her.

"Shhh," she cooed. Vaguely, he felt how she shifted his weight to the mattress, and then how the room grew darker, quieter. Her fingers brushed his face then, just before he fell asleep for a little while.

Waking up came in layers. It was like drifting closer instead of away, one inch at a time. The first thing he noticed was that the spot next to him was no longer empty as per usual, but full of warmth. He stirred, barely opening his eyes.

Hungary was smiling at him, and he returned the gesture by kissing her hello. He didn't even have to think about it. It simply felt like the most natural thing in the world, until his brain caught up with the rest of him and he understood what he had just done. "Uh," he said, scrambling for words that inspired her to spare his life, but then he noticed that she didn't seem mad at all, but rather . . . Well, you just had to look at her. If he had to describe it, he would say she was fucking beaming at him, good God.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," Prussia said, enjoying the feel of her arms draped around him. He bit on his lower lip, pondering if she would take it badly if he went for another kiss. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, and given that she had looked so damn happy about it the first time around, he decided to go for it.

First, he bumped his nose against hers, as though warning her of his intentions, and then he looked at her lips. Seeing where he was going, she closed the distance between them and kissed him back, brushing her thumb on his earlobe before she held his nape with the tips of her fingers.

"Is this okay?" Hungary asked.

"More than okay," he replied in earnest, and thus began the struggle of taking off their clothes while still kissing, and kissing each other's smiles as they fought with small inconveniences such as buttons, buckles and their ilk.

"Man," he laughed against her mouth, reaching out to unzip her skirt with clumsy hands just as she tugged on his t-shirt with such urgency, he almost thought she would rip it off him. It would have been amazing to see for sure, but it never came to happen. She let go of the fabric after taking a look at his ribs, touching his skin with such care that it made his breath catch.

"Oh, that," he said, remembering his earlier encounter with the tree. "It just heals a little slower now. It's no big deal."

It surprised him how easily it rolled off his tongue, just how easy it was to say something like, "My body takes longer to heal. Go figure, pft." or "Can you believe it? They don't make bodies like they used to anymore." It was the kind of thing he planned to tell West in passing, in the same tone a father would use to tell his kid everything was going to be fine, even if he didn't have a flying fuck of an idea whether that was true.

But now that he thought about it, he didn't think West would have fallen for it. And by the look of it, Hungary hadn't either. She was still staring at his skin, gingerly brushing her fingers along each bruise, and then along his old scars.

Prussia cupped her face. "Hey."

Little by little, she tilted her face and met his eyes. Somehow, it was like looking at himself in a mirror—she had the same look he had worn in the beginning, when he had first noticed that something was wrong. But now he wasn't afraid in the least. He wasn't even worried anymore.

"I'm still here," he said, kissing her forehead, then her closed eyelids, the tip of her cheekbones. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes," she breathed and looked at him once more, her eyes glistening. 

"And talking about things that are alive and kicking . . ." Prussia said, pointing downwards with his chin. It was a crass thing to say, perhaps, but it made her snort and laugh as she wiped the corner of her eyes.

"You're terrible," Hungary said, but her voice was mellow rather than reproachful. 

"I'm an terribly handsome," he told her, and she sighed and pulled him in for a kiss, for two, and then for another one. She held onto him fiercely, and he wished she had found him much, much sooner. He had always prided himself in never needing anyone, but all he could think about was how much more bearable the hard times would have been, if only she had been by his side.

"Don't let go," Prussia whispered against her body. It was so nice to be in her arms, to feel her breath warming his skin. To think that the magic might be lost if they left behind this city, this room, this moment . . . the sole idea was driving him mad.

"I'm not planning to," Hungary assured him, kissing his nose before she helped him out of his clothes. She fondled him rather shamelessly while she was at it, but he found it difficult to complain, especially since the first thing she did upon seeing him stark naked was to smile wide and wrap her arms around his waist.

Not being one to stay behind, he took the liberty to do away with all of what she was wearing, until he was hovering over her with a sense of wonder and reverence, in the same way the ancient peoples must have looked upon the elements. "Wow, just look at you," he exclaimed, and once he stopped ogling her with a dumb smile on his face, he kissed her with playful abandon, listening to her heartbeats quicken just below his mouth.

She pulled the covers over their heads and brought him closer to whisper in his ear, "We should have done this sooner."

"You're telling me! Should we make up for lost time?"

Her hair was messy, and she was laughing, and none of it was like he had imagined. She was warm and delightful to the point that he thought he would die of high-grade, undiluted bliss the moment he was inside her, but it wasn't what he had expected. Bites and scratches, sure. Slaps, bruises, and hardcore fucking as well.

But somehow, this was different. Here she was, touching her palm to his heart, leaving a trail of loving little kisses along the inside of his arm just because she felt like it, just about ruining him for anybody else. And she smiled like she was really enjoying herself, which made him feel childishly happy, as though butterflies were tap-dancing inside his stomach instead of just fluttering around. 

He closed his eyes, commiting to mind the sound of her laughter, the whole of her. She made him think of spring, lush and earthy, of evening dew shining over dark foliage, of the forests where he had been born. And as his whole body trembled and he touched his forehead to hers, he thought she felt like a good night's rest, like his home away from home.

She was still smiling afterwards, following the shape of his mouth with her thumb. "It's already November, isn't it?" Prussia asked, dropping a kiss against her fingers.

"Yes, but don't ask me what day. I lost track of time," Hungary said, which was understandable. He was _that_ good.

"You see, there's going to be this thing with lit-up balloons along the path where the Wall used to be, and it seems like it's going to be really nice to look at, and eco-friendly too, because you know West. So I was thinking that maybe you would like to take a look at it, if anything because all that light shimmering on the Spree ought to be pretty."

"If you're asking me out, I'm going to say yes."

"I am," he hurried out to say, picking the strands of hair that were covering her face and placing them gently behind her ear.

"Then that's a yes," she said. 

It was his turn to beam and pump his fist into the air. He would have also tap-danced if he had been able. "Awesome."

She embraced him then, caressing his back as he basked in her warmth. There was something heartfelt about the way she was holding him to her, so he remained quiet until she felt like talking. "I made you wait, didn't I? If I had known before—"

"It's okay," he said, stroking her hair. "Say, have you seen those old couples taking a stroll on the park? I bet not all of them got together when they were young, nimble things. Some of them must have found each other later in life. Perhaps they even found their way back to each other after years of being apart, like us. So what if we got together in our old age? I just know I want to be with you, so if you want to be with me too, we're all set."

"We're still nimble, though," she said, making him laugh.

"Damn sure we are."

"And of course I want to be with you," Hungary said, dropping a light kiss on his bruised shoulder. "There are things I no longer need to wonder about, you see. Now I know for sure."

"You're talking about how good of a lay I am, right?" he asked, wishing he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth to make him look even cooler. "I knew you would be impressed."

"That too," she said with a giggle, painting wide strokes along his skin as she followed the curve of his spine. He let her pamper him—it had been a long time since anyone had been this gentle with him.

"You know something else Fritz said? He said I didn't need to work so hard at having fun on my own, or something to that effect. I did always work so hard at everything, even if it didn't seem like it," Prussia whispered. "I just made it look—"

"—easy," she said, and he did his best not to squeal in delight. They were completing each other's sentences now. "Don't think I don't know that. Germany didn't become a hard worker out of nowhere."

"I set quite a good example for him, didn't I? Man, I'm the bestest older brother in the whole world. Though I have to say, West exaggerates, sometimes."

"He has Italy to bring him out of his shell," she said matter-of-factly. "And you have me, so there's no need to have all that fun just on your own. At least not all of the time."

"That so?" he asked, chuckling under his breath. 

"Yes, so you better prepare." There was that edge to her voice again, even if she was giggling all the while. She sounded like a former juvenile delinquent who had never quite said goodbye to her old ways, but he didn't mind.

He brought his hand to his head in a sloppy salute and said, "Got it."

"Good," she said, taking his face between her hands so that she could look at him, so that she could kiss him.

He sighed against her mouth. It didn't stop amazing him how easy it felt, how right. How good it felt, as though nothing could hurt, not even the past. How happy it made him. And happiness felt awesome, like a choir of little birds chirping in harmony and flapping their little wings against a sunny blue sky.


End file.
